


As if the Pope Wasn't Enough

by sparklight



Category: Eroica Yori Ai o Komete | From Eroica with Love, Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Fluff and Humor, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-21
Updated: 2014-10-21
Packaged: 2018-02-22 02:36:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2491322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparklight/pseuds/sparklight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Romano is out of options, Ludwig has a solution, Klaus isn't at all surprised Dorian has committed another crime but STILL can't really believe what he's stolen this time and Eroica... he's all too charmed.</p>
<p>Otherwise known as the crossover in which Eroica steals North Italy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	As if the Pope Wasn't Enough

**Author's Note:**

> This was written quite a long time ago and I hope everybody is reasonably IC, but I frankly can't remember if the countries are, so I'm just crossing my fingers and posting this.

"Siberia, all of you! Incompetents! Idiots! Do I _have to do everything myself_ around here!?" the roar made the glass in the windows opposite from the door shudder, and Romano eyeballed the door as if whatever in the room beyond it might explode.

"How is a loud-mouthed bastard supposed to help, potato-freak?" South Italy growled and gave the door another glare. He was already regretting coming to the _bastard_ for help, but he'd had a notion that it might go... smoother if he did that, instead of turning to the _rest_ of the family. 

Germany grimaced above him, and opened the door.

"He's the best, and is used to deal with the person who has your brother." Ludwig shrugged and led the way through a neat labyrinth of desks and stacked files, coffee and cigarette-smoke heavy in the air. A blonde, slender thing, very smartly dressed in a suit cut such a way Romano was sure it was supposed to be for a woman, burst past them crying loudly. A taller, handsome blonde (were _all_ these German freaks _blonde_?) rushed after, looking somewhat constipated, though Romano supposed he could just be worried for the fuffy-headed agent.

"Agent G!"

... What was it with the stupid letter names?

"And tell me again, bastard, how is this "Iron Klaus" gonna help me get my brother back? The guy left only a goddamn statue in place, and a note rambling about how only such a statue would be a good exchange for the many beauties of North Italy!" Romano snarled, about to whirl around and give the freak a good stab in the chest for emphasis, when he slammed into another person. Did all these damn bastard Germans have to be so _tall_ too?

"What. Has. Eroica. Done. NOW?"

Had Romano been a lesser man, he would surely have squeaked and quaked in terror, like that idiot Spain. Had Romano been his brother, he would have shrieked and hid behind Germany for protection, wailing about not wanting to be hurt. 

Romano, however, stood firm in the face of a wild-eyed beast with a voice like molten steel and rage in his eyes. There might even have been smoke rising from the man's ears, hidden by shoulder-length black hair. 

For once, though, Romano thought that Feliciano _might_ have the right idea. If he didn't have his pride, he would have hid behind the bastard. Not even Russia was that scary!

"Major Eberbach." Germany nodded and the two shook hands as if Major "Iron" Klaus Eberbach just hadn't been frothing at the mouth at the bare reference to the man who'd kidnapped South Italy's twin.

"What can I do for you? Has Eroica done something?" the Major seemed to have calmed down, but stubbed the cigarette he had in the corner of his mouth, took a gulp of the coffee that stood precariously at the edge of the desk, and lit a new cigarette.

"Done something!? He's kidnapped my brother, that's what, and I should have handled this myself instead of letting this bastard, potato-freak _German_ handle it!" Romano was out of patience, and exploded, gesturing wildly at Klaus. 

"What's he gonna do that I... or you," Romano had to spit that last bit out as he whirled at Germany, "can't do?! It's one man, we should be able to get him back!" His brother had been missing for a whole week, now, so one would have to excuse Romano. That fact was probably the single reason why Germany, eyes narrowed and looking rather pinched, only nodded.

"Vargas... Major Klaus has experience with dealing with your brother's kidnapper, he'll get him back." Ludwig sighed and turned to Klaus, who's eyes were starting to resemble green needles, so narrow were they.

"Why has Eroica kidnapped a _boy_? The fop goes around stealing art, not _people_ ," Klaus said as he crossed his arms, then promptly lit a new cigarette as the other one burned down to its end.

"... Art?" Romano wasn't sure whether to laugh or sneer, so what came out was a sort of slightly hysterical, choked-off snarl. Then he groaned and, for the first time, no matter that the potato-bastard was right there and there was another idiot German in the room, buried his face in his hands. 

"At least he appreciates Feliciano for his _accomplishments_ ," Romano muttered, his voice muffled by his hands, and if the situation wasn't so dire, and he wasn't so strung out, he would have smirked as the hand that had just landed on his shoulder stiffened. He wasn't particularly amused as the fingers dug into his flesh, though.

"What has a _boy_ to do with North Italy and _art_?" Klaus' spiked voice tore through the smoke-heavy air and interrupted Romano's intended snarl over Germany taking _liberties_ with his body, he was certainly not his brother! 

And then this idiot... South Italy was about to tear the idiot a new one, what did he _think_ they had to do with each other, when Germany gave another squeeze before letting go, and what the hell, who did the man think he _was_ \---!

"Major Klaus, the young man has _everything_ to do with North Italy and art," Ludwig paused, mouth narrow but eyes rather washed-out... haunted, almost, "if I've understood the reports I've read about this Eroica, he didn't really mean any harm when he kidnapped Feliciano Vargas... But unless that boy is back where he belongs, with his brother, we're going to have an... ah, international _incident_ on our hands." Germany straightened and held up a hand to forestall any interruptions, and not even Romano said anything. 

Though all he'd wanted to complain about was that he could tell the whole office of _agents_ outside were hanging on the door, listening in on the discussion, and he didn't want his stupid brother's predicament all over the news!

"Major Eberbach... Your mission is to get Feliciano Vargas back from Eroica. The man hasn't just kidnapped a random boy, or even the whole of Italy's art treasures, but rather North Italy itself."

Iron Klaus kind of stumbled back against his desk while his face drained of colour, though if the reaction was to roar about the delusion of Germany and Romano, or because of the... reality of the situation, no one would know. Because right then the door was suddenly slammed indoors as half of his alphabetized agents fell through the doorway. There were yells, some shrieks, a lot of thumping as bodies met the floor and bodies met other bodies. When things finally quieted, it was silent enough one could basically hear the smoke from Klaus' dying cigarette wind itself towards the ceiling.

"You heard the man, get us a flight to London, _immediately_!" Klaus roared while snagged up his coat from where it had lain, flung over the back of his chair, and stormed out, "and it better be a German airplane operator! I don't want to deal with foppish French or crazy English ones, like the last two times! DAMN EROICA!"

Romano stared into the now empty outer office; Iron Klaus' orders had cleaned the room more effectively and faster than Russia sailing into a room full of Baltics and then slowly turned to Germany, eyes narrowed.

"If my brother isn't back whole, or if that bastard upsets him, _there will be war_!" He stabbed Germany in the chest for good measure, and then stormed out himself. Ludwig groaned and, since he was alone, let his face meet the palm of one hand.

***  
 **Elsewhere.**

"What are you doing with that phone?"

"Ahhh! I just wanted to talk to my brother!"

"... You have a brother? How fabulous! Let's not keep brothers separated, then. That wouldn't do at all."

***

Glaring at the picture showing a very... vacuous-looking young man with brown hair (and a very strange curl which he clearly shared with his brother, though the latter had his at a different angle, and _both of them_ should learn to comb their hair correctly!) and a big, cheery smile, Klaus snorted.

"Are we sure it's not one of the counter-parliamentary groups that have kidnapped I--- It..." Klaus paused, looking somewhat strangled. Apparently he was having some trouble with accepting exactly _who_ had been kidnapped. "... Vargas?" He just couldn't get the actual country name out. It was _preposterous_!

"That's what I thought of _first_ , idiot, and had the family check them out. They're not responsible. I'm not stupid like my brother, bastard." South Italy, also known as Romano Vargas, and twin brother to the kidnapped subject, snapped from the seat behind Iron Klaus, leaning over the back of the plane seats with a sneer on his face.

"And _what is he doing here_?!" It was completely intolerable! Klaus growled and glared from A, who had the dubious pleasure of sitting beside him, to the glaring nation behind them.

"He... ah, we... couldn't stop him, sir." A wrung his hands, but was otherwise impressively staunch in the face of his superior's rage.

"If you think I'd let some random group of German bastards go find my stupid brother on their own, you're lacking a brain, idiot," Romano said with a snort and landed back in his seat, fully ignoring Klaus' thunderous expression. 

The man spent a few moments clenching and unclenching his hands, terrorizing A about transport to Eroica's castle, and shouting at G to stop coming by and checking up on him every few moments, and if the man had wanted to be a air stewardess, he should have gone into that line of work instead of where he was now! When Klaus finally, for the moment, calmed down (that Romano appeared to be sleeping could have something to do with it), he growled as he caught sight of the picture of Feliciano Vargas again.

"At least it's not the first time the degenerate does something internationally catastrophic and foolish as this," he snarled quietly, and A nodded, remembering that rather horrifying time in Rome.

"What's he done that's more stupid than kidnapping North Italy?" Romano was once again leaning over the seats, apparently not as asleep as he'd appeared to be. The wince both NATO agents produced when Romano said "North Italy" was highly amusing, and if things weren't what they were, he might have informed them who "Ludwig" actually was, just to see their reactions. 

Especially the loud-mouthed idiot. That would serve him right.

"The pope..." Then A paled as he realized he'd actually gotten frazzled enough to reveal that potentially very disastrous information. The major looked fit to strangle him, and _then_ send him to Alaska.

"... _That's_ the guy who kidnapped il papa!?" Romano _almost_ shouted it over half the plane, but caught his voice in time and sat down, hard. Dragging a hand through his hair, he looked around, clenched one hand into a fist, and then relaxed.

"What the hell? Who does something like that, damn it!" Then Romano grimaced, and shook his head. 

Who steals a _nation_ and leaves a statue in his place? This... _Eroica_ , apparently. This was all just a bit too much. Giving the two Germans a glare, Romano threw his jacket over himself.

"If you leave me sleeping on the plane when we've landed, you're gonna regret it, damn it," he said harshly and then turned away to get some sleep. It was right about time for a nap, anyway.

***

"British and Germans have no sense of architecture," Romano said with a raised eyebrow and a sneer as he looked up at Earl Dorian Red Gloria, aka Eroica's, castle. Klaus growled and whirled around, glaring enough Romano halted for half a second.

"They are well-built and made to _last_ , not look pretty!" Klaus snarled and then stalked away as Romano snickered. Who's buildings were made to "last", anyway, when the Pantheon still stood, as well as Roman aqueducts and roads? 

Romano wasn't suicidal, however, and probably wouldn't have antagonized Klaus even that much, were it not for the fact that he'd be getting his brother back soon, and it made him prickly. 

Pricklier than usual. 

Whatever. 

When they finally came up to the door, Klaus spent several minutes banging on the door, before getting it open. While "Iron" Klaus would have vehemently denounced such methods in other situations (particularly all those concerning Eroica and his thieving ways), this was a mission, and in pursuit of success, anything had to be done.

"Eroica!" Klaus shout echoed around the otherwise empty entrance hall, and several agents looked around nervously. There seemed to be no one around, however. Clenching his hands, Klaus directed several of his agents out to the grounds surrounding the castle, and the rest to search the place.

"You stay here. Do. Not. Move." Klaus barked at Romano before whirling away and storming further into the castle. He wasn't going to believe it was empty until he'd searched the whole place himself, from top to bottom. 

Romano yawned and wondered, savagely, how the whole castle could have been emptied before they got here. How did they _know_? Shaking his head, Romano slammed a fist into the wall.

"I _should_ have taken care of this myself, damn it!" 

Because if Major Klaus Heinz von dem Eberbach was used to dealing with Eroica, Eroica would surely be used to dealing with the _Major_ , and would have someone looking out for the man or his agents. 

Romano should just have insisted on all information the bastard loudmouth had on Eroica, and then taken some of his family and _gone himself_! The band of art thieves and his brother would surely be here still, then! 

Someone moved carefully by the door, and Romano, not bothering to turn around, rolled his eyes.

"The bastard Major is further in, go bother him if you haven't fou--ngh!" The cloth over his mouth and nose was a surprise, and he stupidly took a deeper breath before trying to _stop breathing_ , but when the surprise was wearing off, it was all a bit too late. Whoever-it-was had already very neatly caught his arms behind his back, and Romano's kicks, while he got in one good one, weren't doing much damage.

"Thank you for informing me my dear major isn't close enough to interfere, Italy!" the cheerfully husky chuckle grated on Romano's nerves, but he couldn't find enough coordination to hit the idiot, and then everything was just very dark and soft.

***

Germany stared at the phone as if it was going to jump up and bite him, because while the one he was going to call was usually a very even-tempered person, who knew how he might react with news like this. Sighing heavily and listening with half an ear to Major Eberbach shouting demands for information regarding where the Earl Red Gloria had other official residences, Ludwig lifted the receiver. 

That he could perhaps _not_ inform Spain that South Italy had gotten kidnapped was only very briefly thought of and discarded. 

The man would come to him anyway, if Romano was gone for much longer. Better he know from the beginning what had happened, even if that might mean another worried and useless person following them as they tracked down all the possible places Eroica might have hidden.

"Spain? I need to tell you something..." As he talked, Germany hoped this wouldn't be spread too far, as the potential for catastrophe was big, especially if only _some_ of the information got out. 

Misunderstandings just weren't a good idea.

***

Unfortunately, certain people got to know, because even in Intelligence things tend to leak out sometimes. That it was already known who'd kidnapped at least one of the Italies got lost somewhere on the way, though.

(The) America(ns) thought it was the USSR, because surely the commies had kidnapped someone so important to the governing of a free (non-communist) Italy, to make the government agree to the communist party taking up the reigns.

The UK (and certain British persons high up enough to know) thought it was either the commies, or France, because France was crazy enough to do that, surely, just to see the US and Russia explode all over each other.

France was busy with some wine and Portugal, but conferenced enough with the necessary people to pop out that surely it was Russia (the commies!), or perhaps UK, who would then try to land the blame at _France's_ feet.

Canada was rather sure it wasn't the USSR, because the KGB (who would be the ones to do it) had been rather busy as of late, it seemed (yes, he kept an eye on them. The commies were close, after all!), but of course no one was interested in what _Canada_ thought.

Russia, on the other hand...

"Those lousy bourgeois pigs! Trying to lay the blame on us... This is all Iron Klaus' plan," Mischa, also known to some as the "Bear Cub", growled, because surely Major "Iron" Klaus Eberbach would do something like that, for revenge. 

He'd just been _waiting_ for something like this to happen. (No matter that this wasn't exactly Iron Klaus' style.)

"Ah, no, no. Relax, comrades. Whoever is trying to lay the blame on us will find no fault, and America will look very foolish spouting such nonsense, in the end," the large man in the doorway smiled benevolently, which was almost hidden by his huge scarf. 

When several of the KGB agents in the room looked as if they wanted to protest, the tall, pale-haired man waved his hand, and the pipe he held in it.

"If the US does something because of this, we can retaliate, being firmly in the place of the _victim_. I'm sure no one would think to accuse us when we've been so slanderously treated by those Americans," Ivan smiled and the KGB agents nodded, agreeing. 

Only Mischa looked somewhat as if he wanted to argue, but then settled. The huge man had a point, even if Mischa couldn't exactly remember where he was from, and therefore if he even should be here. Before he could question it, however, the man who called himself Ivan Branginsky had already left the room, singing what Mischa assumed to be a drinking song (to go with the vodka he'd had in the other hand), but the Russian was so archaic it was hard to know.

Despite all of that, however, no one would really have time do anything _foolish_ , as Klaus, having intimidated the necessary government employees (though it went much smoother when this man with really huge eyebrows came in and told them to just give in, it was all right) to get all of Eroica's official holdings, were quickly going through them in order of probability. 

He was rather sure Eroica would hide in a house that belonged to him as the Earl Red Gloria, simply because he'd probably think Klaus would try to find the hideouts of _Eroica_ , and Eroica would hardly be stupid enough to try and hide in any of the houses he held as an Earl, now would he?

***

Romano felt off when he started to wake up. Maybe it was because he still had his clothes on? He didn't go to sleep with _clothes_... 

His mouth felt sticky and dry at the same time, though, which was stranger, and then there also was a very familiar weight beside him, pressed up as close as it could go and still trying to get closer. Staring down at a fluffy brown head, his eyes still somewhat unfocused, South Italy realised he'd been united with his brother again. 

His very much peacefully sleeping brother.

"Idiot!"

"Ahh! Fratello! Why'd you do that foooor?" North Italy whined as he was woken from his nap by a fist to the head, "we were having a very nice nap! Why'd you wake me?" Feliciano's voiced continued to climb and tears threatened, though he was quickly shaken out of that. 

Quite literally, in fact, as Romano grabbed his younger brother's shoulders and roughly shook him.

"Stupid! I was _drugged_ , damn it! That wasn't a nap. And I can't even leave you alone for a second, why do I let you go to that potato-freak if he can't keep you out of trouble, and now you've gotten _me_ in trouble, too, idiot fratellini!" Romano snapped and shook Feliciano once more, letting his hands go down his brother's arms, trying to assess any possible damage.

"Ve~!" Feliciano wasn't aware of his brother checking up on him, because instead he attacked him with a hug, having heard the concern in Romano's complaints, "I was worried about you, too, fratello!"

"Idiot!" Romano cried and was about to hit Feliciano again when someone stepped further into the room, and Romano felt his face colour because that someone had _seen them_ , and he hadn't been aware they were there, and _damn it_!

"Hitting your brother isn't very nice, is it? But you look so sweet together!" If it hadn't been for the man's voice being less softer, and his being much _blonder_ (and having a giant mop of curls for hair), Romano would have thought, from the words alone, that it was that idiot Spain. He _would_ say something like that, since he got so stupid sometimes when he and his brother were together. 

So _that_ was Eroica. A flamboyant idiot. Considering UK, Romano was surprised that Eroica was _British_. He seemed to suit Francis more.

"Do you like staring at other people when they sleep, or what, bastard? Damn it!" Romano shouted and tried to look for something to throw, but there was nothing close but pillows, and they weren't _hard enough_. Feliciano had noticed his intent, though, and threw himself on Romano, hugging him again.

"Fratello, don't! He's been really nice to me!" Feliciano cried as he tried to hang on while Romano tried to push him off, giving him another nice bop on the head.

"Arrgh! He _kidnapped_ you, damn it! And now he's done the same to me! What has being 'nice' anything to do with it? Wasn't the pope enough for you, bastard!" Romano had finally managed to disentangle himself from both brother and bed, and stalked up to Eroica, glaring up at the blond, who had a hand in front of his mouth.

"And don't laugh at me, damn it!"

"No, no, I wouldn't. You are truly _charm_ \---"

"If you finish that sentence, you'll hurt for longer than I've been a country, bastard," Romano snarled as he interrupted the blathering idiot, because only Spain got away with saying stupid things like that, because he was the only one who _said it_. 

Eroica just smiled as Feliciano launched himself out of the bed and almost toppled Romano as he landed so he could hug him from behind.

"Fratello, fratello~ Want to see my painting? I've gotten to sleep and eat and even paint, and it's really nice!" Feliciano said excitedly and bounced on his feet. Unfortunately, since his hug had been further up than usual, Romano was turning kind of red in the face as he tried to breathe with arms around his neck.

"Feliciano, I think you need to let your brother breathe," Eroica said with a laugh, as Feliciano jumped back a good step or two, then flew forward again, fussing agitatedly over having hurt his brother.

"I'm fine, idiot," Romano said with a roll of his eyes and pushed Feliciano away, "show me that painting, then." 

***

Romano glared up at Eroica, then looked back at where Feliciano was very happily painting. It had been a while since he'd seen his brother doing that...

"So why keep him for a _week_? And then go get _me_ , too?" Romano growled and wondered how long it would take those lazy-ass lame Germans to find them! 

Eroica sighed and shook his head, heavy curls shining in the light, and one hand on his chest. 

Over-dramatic idiot.

"I was surprised when he was so... young. But he was so sweet I couldn't help myself. Precious!" Eroica exulted and smiled brilliantly, and Romano was, for a moment, consumed by the need to hit that face until the expression went away; it was enough that potato-freak Germany did it, he didn't need this British idiot mooning over his stupid little brother too!

"And he's _stupid_ , damn it! Just because he's done all that art doesn't me--" Romano stuttered to a stop as Eroica went down on one knee before him, taking one of his hands and squeezing it.

"And Rome's hills are beautiful, the Pantheon a testament to Roman practicality as well as tenacity, and the Basilica is splendid both within and without. I especially have a soft spot for the Palantine Hill..." Eroica's voice was a bare murmur as his free hand gently touched the shirt right where Romano's navel was. Later, Romano would deny squeaking, and he sorely hoped that idiot Spain never got to hear about this incident, or, God forbid, speak to the bastard in front of him, because...

"Bastard!" Romano would also deny that his face had gone red and his voice going up a register or two as he pushed the man firmly enough that Eroica fell on his ass.

"Fratello..?" Feliciano's bright voice floated over the space separating them, and Romano whirled around, snarling. He did _not_ want Feliciano coming over here!

"Nothing! It's nothing, go back to your painting, idiot!"

"But..." South Italy protested, his eyes widening in teary-eyed worry, because Romano didn't _shriek_.

"But _nothing_! I'm fine, everything's fine, so go back to your stupid painting, fratellini," North Italy grimaced and rolled his eyes as Feliciano happily called out his acceptance and turned back to the painting.

"That idiot, loud-mouthed German 'warned' me about you, bastard." Romano glared as Eroica first sat, and then stood up, rubbing his behind as he gave a deep, wounded sigh.

"Surely he was very unflattering, as usual. My dear major is quite... uptight." Dorian sighed and admitted, if only to himself, that this escapade would have to end soon, but it had really been rather unsatisfying, besides having Feliciano's most _darling_ personality around. The nation in front of Dorian snorted and crossed his arms, looking away.

"The bastard is a pathetic, repressed coward," Romano sneered at a leafy plant standing on a pedestal in a corner before turning back to Eroica, "I'm not my brother, but if all you wanted was a _kiss_..." Another roll of eyes and Romano grabbed Eroica by the collar, jerking the man down to his face. 

That Eroica didn't cringe at the confrontational glare he was more or less attacked with was only due to his being so very desensitized by a particular German NATO officer.

"I assure you, Romano, you're not le—mmph!" Eroica was probably not used to not being in control of situations like these, but then, that was probably what made Romano feel secure enough to do it. Eroica flailed, being rather uncomfortably bent over, while Romano, still with a death-grip on Eroica's collar, seemed to get quite comfortable about the situation. 

Right about then, though, several things happened. 

Feliciano looked up from his painting and squeaked, two doors slammed open and a lot of people stormed in.

"Can I have a kiss, too, fratello?"

"EARL!"

"EROICA! LET GO OF THE BOY THIS _INSTANT_ , YOU DEGENERATE!"

"R-romano..."

It was only that last, confused voice that made Romano start and let go of Eroica, once again pushing him away with such a force the taller man slammed right into that money-grubbing assistant of his, who, wailing, clung to the man even as they fell to the floor. Dorian had hardly met the floor before he was yanked up by the arm by Klaus however, though his exuberant thanks quickly got shouted down by Klaus.

Romano felt like tearing his hair off. This had quickly become a mess of a sort he'd _specifically not wanted to deal with_!

" _Now_ you come, you idiots! Feliciano, come here!" Romano crossed his arms again and glared as Feliciano carefully put his painting supplies down and wandered over, only looking faintly worried.

"You idiot! Here!" Grabbing his younger nation half by the shoulders, South Italy kissed him on the forehead, and was promptly almost bowled over as North Italy hugged him.

"Ve~! I love you too, fratello!"

Patting Feliciano's head at the same time as he pushed him away, and, unfortunately and completely incidentally, into Germany, who'd been hot on the idiot Iron Klaus' heels into the room.

"Germany~!" Feliciano fairly _squealed_ and attached himself to Ludwig's arm. In the background, there was a very loud argument going on between Eroica and Klaus, over James' continued wailing about being ignored by the earl. 

Sighing loudly, South Italy turned to the last person who'd come into the room, though there seemed to be a fair amount of people waiting outside, too.

"What? Don't _look at me like that_ , bastard!" Romano snarled and stalked over to where Spain stood by the door, a rather blank look on his face. It quickly rearranged itself into a pleasant, airy smile as Romano came closer.

"Like what, Romano? I'm happy you're all right, that's all," Antonio said with a smile and shook his head. Romano stared at him narrow-eyed, and that could, perhaps, have been it, except he'd already kissed his brother and one idiot today, so why the hell not make that _three_ idiots. 

At least this idiot meant more than the blonde one with the giant curls.

"You're stupid. Really, really stupid. Were you hit too many times on the head when you were little, bastard?" Romano didn't let Antonio answer, but rather just grabbed him by that silly little bow he had around his neck and tugged him down, too. Spain was a little faster on the uptake than Eroica, though, and enjoyed the sudden luck thoroughly.

"Eroica! Do you corrupt _everything you touch_?!" Klaus baulked and whirled around to face Dorian again, having quite enough of seeing men kiss each other. 

It seemed Eroica had moved however, and was close enough their noses almost touched.

"Not _everything_ , dear major. It seems one thing I associate quite frequently with refuses to be... corrupted... despite my most _ardent_ attempts!" Dorian smiled and dragged a gentle finger down Klaus' cheek. Iron Klaus turned white as a sheet and, after a few moments of frozen horror, was on the other side of the room as fast as he could move his bulk. The agents that had been collected by the door all jerked back as one.

"... _What_ are you staring at, you _incompetents_?! This mission is clearly over, get us a flight back to Germany and Bonn, _now_ , UNLESS YOU WANT TO MOVE TO ALASKA, THE LOT OF YOU!"

The agents fled, and, presently, everyone got back to where they should be.

"Potato-freak! Don't get any ideas from that idiot thief, you hear me!?"

"Romano, calm down..."

"Idiots! All of you, damn it!"

"Ve~."


End file.
